


Murphy's Law

by poor_sickies



Series: Bad Things Happen [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Crying, Gen, Injury, Pain, wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 17:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16123169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_sickies/pseuds/poor_sickies
Summary: Eight months living in space, fighting and surviving. And Lance is getting awfully used to Murphy’s law at this point.Prompt: painful wound cleaningFind me on Tumblr at @poor-sickies





	Murphy's Law

Some days, things just go wrong.

Eight months living in space, fighting and surviving. And Lance is getting awfully used to Murphy’s law at this point.

“Come on Keith, hold on. We’re almost there.”

He runs through the dark hallways, as fast as he can with Keith in his arms, squinting to try and make out the walls from the floor. He’s pretty sure the infirmary is two halls down, but the lack of light makes him unsure. Well, he better hurry. Now is not the time to fail. There’s way too much at stake.

Keith keeps squirming in his arms, face stuck on a grimace, and eyes closed, left hand holding his side. He lets out a pained whimper when Lance twists to the left to go faster.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance apologizes quickly, trying not to run out of breath, “almost there.”

They had their good days. Days when they win battles, free planets, make new alliances for the Voltron Coalition.

But then there were the really bad days. And looking down at Keith in his arms, nearly ready to pass out, Lance knows this isn’t even the worse it can get. The thought scares him, and he tries to push it to the back of his mind. It’s why he’s running desperately, isn’t it? There’s still a good chance this day doesn’t go completely wrong. And Keith’s depending on him.

Lance’s legs nearly give out when he’s able to distinguish the infirmary door. He’s able to see Coran inside, despite the almost complete darkness, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets in a frantic pace.

Coran notices Lance’s arrival (how could he not, with the silence the Castle was submerged in?). He doesn’t look away from the boxes and stacks he’s going through, but motions to a bed at his right.

“Lay him there and start cleaning the wound. I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he says, with a wavering in his voice that was very uncharacteristic to him.

Lance nods quickly, and lowers Keith down on the mattress, gently, trying to ignore the groan of pain that comes out of him when his back hits the bed.

Coran leaves, and Lance can hear his rushed steps down the hall. Even normally, with the Castle powered and lit up, its shiny lights and clean appearance managed to be creepy. It’s a hundred times worse, with the power out, dark and somber and silent. He’s pretty sure he could hear a pin drop, weren’t it for Keith’s ragged breaths.

Right. Now isn’t the time to think about this, as scared as he may be. He needs to act fast.

Keith is still wearing his armor, minus the helmet. With a small push from Lance’s hand, he lays on his good side, and Lance is able to remove his chest plate without too much trouble, as well as the boots and leg armor. It’s strange to see how small and fragile Keith looks right now in his black under suit.

Especially with the huge bloodstain where the suit is ripped. 

“Okay, man, you’re gonna have to help me here,” Lance says, one hand on Keith’s arm to get his attention, “I need to get your suit out. Can you sit up a little?”

Keith looks a little out of it, but after a few moments, he nods. His forehead is bloodied too, eyes squinted and brow furrowed, gritting his teeth to block out the pain that radiates from his side. Lance makes a mental note to check for any concussion after this. With Lance’s hand on his back, he slowly sits up, just enough for Lance to get to his zipper on the back of his neck and slide the suit down to his waist. 

Keith sighs in relief when Lance lets him lay down again, but shivers with the cold. His skin is sweaty and clammy, and Lance really hopes it’s just from the pain. With the castle like this, they really can’t afford for Keith’s wound to get infected.

Lance picks up the first aid kit, and brings it closer to the only light source he has, a small Altean lamp. He can’t read the labels, but it’s not too difficult to find the disinfectant and a cotton like tissue. 

The wound looks a bit worse, now that Lance has uncovered it. It was a laser gun, close enough that it removed part of the skin and muscle above his ribs in the right side. And it wouldn’t have been so bad if those Galra soldiers hadn’t dragged him through the dirt floor right after. Lance is pretty sure he’s going to hear Keith’s screams when he falls asleep tonight. If he falls asleep. 

Right now, the priority is to disinfect the wound.

There’s a lot of dirt lodged in the edges of the cut, and bigger grains scattered in the deepest part. And he has to take it all out. It vaguely reminds him of when he used to scrape his knees all the time, falling of rocks at the beach, and his mother insisting she had to get all of the sand out. It hurt like hell at the time, and he would always cry a little, but at least his mother’s hugs always made it okay.

He can only imagine how it will feel for Keith.

Lance dips the tissue in the disinfectant and braces himself.

“Okay, Keith, this is gonna hurt a lot, but I’ll try to be quick.” He pulls the lamp closer, trying to fully see the damage. There’s no need to go at it blindly and cause Keith more pain than necessary.

Keith has his eyes closed, hands holding the edges of the mattress, and nods, as if asking Lance to just get it over with. With a deep breath, Lance brings the tissue closer to Keith’s skin and dabs it against the wound.

Keith immediately tenses up, breath hitching, a distorted grunt leaving his throat.

The pain is unbearable.

It’s like Lance is dropping burning oil into his skin and rubbing at it with barbed wire.

Before he can double over himself to just make it stop, Lance is quick and holds his chest down with his other hand. In any other situation, Keith would probably be able to overpower him, but in his weak state, Lance truly has a death grip over him.

“I’m sorry, Keith, I’m so sorry-”

Keith keeps squirming under Lance’s powerful hold, fingers squeezing at the mattress, eyes alternating between screwed shut and wide open with pain. 

The edges of the wound are clean enough, but there’s still some dirt in the middle that Lance needs to take off. As carefully as he can, he picks at it with the cloth, trying to be quick and efficient, but the lighting is bad and Keith is crying. Most of his strength is gone, and he just whimpers helplessly, back arching every time Lance goes deeper. It’s distracting and distressful, and if not for the urgency, Lance would have closed his eyes and blocked his ears. It’s too much.

“Stop- please…make it stop-”

“Almost done, just hold on a little longer-”

The cut finally looks clean, and Lance sighs in relief. 

Keith has his face turned to the other side, exhausted, hunched over himself now that Lance has let go of him. Lance can still hear him crying, quietly.

Lance takes out a gauze pad and a roll of bandages from the first aid kit, ready to wrap Keith’s torso. Keith hisses when he presses the gauze, breath hitching at the painful contact. 

“Lance.”

Keith’s voice is shaking, hoarse from pain. He’s still shivering, a thin layer of cold sweat coating his pale skin.

“The others. Are- are they okay?”

Lance stops. 

Because, worse than the castle with no power, worse than the lions pretty much beaten up, worse than Keith, the black paladin with a wound on his side, there was the reason why it was him here, all alone, taking care of Keith.

“They’re fine, Keith,” he lies, continuing to place the gauze over the wound, keeping it in place with medical tape.

But Keith is too smart for his own good. And from the way he looks at Lance’s face, attentive and focused, he doesn’t have any major head injury, like Lance had feared. No, his mind is clear and lucid, like always. For a moment, Lance wishes it wasn’t. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

Lance sighs. “Keith, there’s nothing you can do now, okay? Just let me take care of this and I’ll-”

“Just tell me what is going on!” Keith snaps, loud enough to startle Lance. He’s breathing faster, looking Lance dead in the eye, his very familiar determined expression scary and somber. 

“Hunk and Pidge are fine. Allura is too.” Lance swallows, fidgeting with the roll of medical tape in his hand. “Shiro is a little… banged up-”

“What?! What happened to him?”

“He had to go on the field during the battle. He took one of the field jets and went down,” Lance explains, as calmly as he can. 

“Yes, I know that, he told us through the comms,” Keith insists, words fast and frustrated, grabbing at Lance’s wrist. “What is wrong with him? Just tell me!”

“Damnit Keith, calm down!” Keith seems to be getting paler by the second, and Lance isn’t sure if it’s from the pain, the anxiety over Shiro, or both, but it’s still scary. 

This is why he hadn’t said anything in the first place. The castle is almost completely inoperational, including the cryopods. He knows the others are doing everything they can for Shiro, but he has no idea of what’s really going on. How can he tell Keith everything is going to be fine, when he can’t even be sure himself? When he’s afraid, terrified, how can he tell Keith not to be scared too?

“Lance, just fucking tell me!”

“He’s… he’s unconscious now. He’s got some kind of head injury, but Coran said he would be fine if we-”

“What?! No- Lance, help me out of this bed, I gotta-”

Keith tries to sit up immediately, but a wave of pain hits him again as he bends his torso, and he flops back down ungraciously with a whimper. His eyes look up at Lance, pleading. He’s about to try it again, but Lance his quick and holds him down again. 

“Lance, please, I gotta see if he’s okay, I-”

“You’re not in any shape to go anywhere, except to sleep,” Lance says, firm but tired.

Keith has tears streaming down his cheeks, his worry for Shiro and the realization that he’s definitely stuck in bed hitting him full force. Lance taps his shoulder gently, picking up the bandages. “Come on, I still need to bandage that.”

He helps Keith lean up a little, just enough for the bandages to go around his back. Keith buries his face in Lance’s shoulder as he does so, shaking and crying, short sobs interrupted by the stabs of pain in his side. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay - the others are with him now, and they’re doing everything they can,” Lance soothes him, helping him lay back down when he’s finished “He’s gonna be fine.” He’s not really sure of who he’s trying to convince anymore – Keith or himself.

Lance walks to the end of the bed to pull down the rest of Keith’s under suit, leaving him in his underwear. He knows attempting to dress him in comfortable clothes would only result in more pain, so he just grabs an extra blanket from the cabinet and covers Keith with it.

Keith looks calmer now. The exhaustion is getting to him, although he seems determined in keeping his eyes open. And as much as Lance wishes Keith would rest a little, just to escape the pain for a while, he’s glad for the company. The Altean lamp is dimming, and Lance knows it will completely go out in a few minutes, and then they’ll be in complete darkness. He thinks of going out to check on Shiro’s condition, but he can’t bring himself to leave Keith alone.

He pulls a chair to Keith’s bedside while he can still see it, and hopes for the best.


End file.
